


Dada

by AngelaChristian



Category: Alice Cooper - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Gen, Musicians, ghost - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-11
Updated: 2011-08-11
Packaged: 2017-10-22 12:36:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelaChristian/pseuds/AngelaChristian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Alice Cooper and "Alice Cooper" had a serious conversation…?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dada

Header  
Title : Dada  
Age : 12+, PG  
Genre : songfic, ghoststory  
Beta : di_glossia, thanks !

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, I don´t know Alice Cooper or his band, "Alice Cooper" is a character created by Alice Cooper , I don´t make money with this.

Summary : What if Alice Cooper and "Alice Cooper" had a serious conversation….

Note : inspired by the song "Dada" , so imagine Alice´s voice a bit like that (low, confused) , Alice 2 sounds often silly or teasing, like the Joker from Batman or a mean goblin.

 

Alice Cooper is sitting on a chair in front of a grand piano. A bottle of Seagram’s is standing on the piano. Some sheets of paper are in a ball, spread all over the floor. The light is dim , the room empty. Alice’s head rests on the keyboard. He might be sleeping. Suddenly, a person enters the scene.

The Person looks like Alice, except for the leopard-spotted, high heeled, thigh high boots, the t-shirt with “Hi, I’m Alice blow me“ printed on it and the snake around his neck.

The other Alice tiptoes to the piano and presses a key.

The first Alice jumps up out of his chair.

Alice 2, very happy: Howdy Cowboy!

Alice 1, sleepy: Who are you?

Alice 2: I’m the past, your muse, the little voice whispering into your ear, the fortune that left you: I’m Alice Cooper. Who are you?

Alice 1: No, you’re not. I’m Alice.

Alice 2: Do you wanna argue with me? Vince?

Alice 1: Come on, I must be dreaming or hallucinating. You’re not really here.

Alice 2 pulls his hair.

Alice 1: Ouch!

Alice 2: Real enough for you?

Alice 1: Ha, ha …So come on, delusion, tell me something funny.

Alice 2: I thought, I was the enfant terrible…ok, I’ve got to talk to you about us.

Alice 1: Us?

Alice 2’s snake hisses at him: Yes, about the way you’re treating me. It can’t go on like this; it’s bad for both of us.

Alice 1: The way I’m treating you?

Alice 2, rolling his eyes: Yes, you exploit me and my talent, but if something goes wrong it’s always “Alice Cooper did it, not me, he’s the bad guy, I’m the nice one…I didn’t do that, I couldn’t, wouldn’t be like that…blah, blah, blah …” And then you try to hang me, chop my head off, etc…because you don’t understand that I’m a part of you, that you can’t run away from and can’t be without me It’s that simple.

Alice 1: I created you. Without me, you wouldn’t exist. But you started to cause trouble.  
Alice 2, suddenly holding billion dollar bills in his hands. He throws them up into the air: Oh, you did? I thought I turned that skinny guy with the long hair into the beloved billion dollar baby that people now see when they look at you.

Alice 1, tired: Look at me. You turned me into the mess that I’m now. It’s your fault.

Alice 2: No, I never told you to get drunk and pity yourself when things get complicated.

Alice 1: You’re so mean.

Alice 2: But you love me. You love me, because I just do what you wouldn’t dare. You’re a saint who’s afraid of getting his hands dirty. So I’m your excuse. I’m the jester. You’re happy with me, because I’m the way out of this “if I’m not nice, they will hate me” trap. You’re the lamb, always doing what it’s told to do. I am the lion who won’t give in, who takes what he wants, while you’re just hoping for any reward in heaven for being nice. You’re afraid to just take what you want, say what you think, do what you like…don’t you feel the frustration of never getting a crumb while other people are eating the whole cake? Oh, the world is full of injustice…

Alice 1, a little angry: You’re a pain in the butt!

Alice 2: But I like it, I don’t feel guilty for being the way I am or wanting what I want. And I don’t worry about my reputation. I’m not like Mr. Nice Guy, Wise Guy, who’s surprised that he’s not everybody’s darling after acting like a freak. The great pretender, just laughing and happy like a clown…in public! But crying at home. You always wanted to be like me, but never made it. Don’t fight me, because you would only be hurting yourself.

Alice 1, sarcastic: You sound like a therapist. A bad one.

Alice 2: But I’m right. You gotta embrace me and not kill me anymore.

Alice 1, very angry: Get out of here! Now!

He grabs the bottle and throws it at him. Alice 2 catches it easily.

Alice 2 suddenly dressed in black leather with a cane: Don’t forget, I’ve got your hand-eye-coordination. And I am the future; you’re the past. They don’t like you anymore, they spit you out and that’s eating you up. You’re out of style, a relic from the past, a legend, but dead…the moment that you were always afraid of is here. You’re done.

Alice 1: Do you know that you’re as cheesy as a whole cheese factory?

Alice 2: I’m cheesy?! Who’s sitting here wasted and wounded at this old piano with a bottle of Seagram’s sitting next to his head…like a scene taken from an old movie?

Alice 1: I’m not behaving like Charles Dickens' Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come…speaking in rhymes and putting on a show. You did it again.

Alice 2: What?

Alice 1: You morphed; the snake is gone.

Alice 2, ironically : You’re so quick…But anyway, we gotta work together, side by side like Jekyll and Hyde…get it into your head!

Alice 1: I still don’t get it. I’m arguing with my delusion about…about what?

Alice 2 , impatient: About your future, you’re a bright guy , think about it, why are you sitting here drinking instead of working?

Alice 1: I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to write. I don't think I can do it anymore.

Alice 2: Did I ever worry about that? No. I don’t question myself or my talent. I fight the demons of doubt with my confidence but I don’t drown them. There is no genie in the bottle that’s going to come out and help me. Just be yourself and don’t be afraid. That’s it, right? You’re afraid that you can’t do it, that you might disappoint people, that you can’t meet there expectations, that they won’t love you anymore, that they’ll see the poor little boy behind the mask of the old man.

Alice 1: You’re making me angry again.

Alice 2, teasing: Want to throw the bottle at me?

Alice 1 cynically: Ha, ha…

Alice 2 : I’m not the savior to pick you little crash-landed angel up from the ground and lift you back up onto your pink cloud of success…I’m more the devil that’ll kick you’re skinny ass ! I am the future. We are united the moment you can admit the things you feel guilty about and love yourself as imperfect as you are. Peace and freedom is a state of mind. Raise your fist and yell! Think about it.

Alice 2 disappears.

The sun shines through the French windows in front of the piano. Alice wakes up. He sees an origami unicorn on the lid of the piano, picks it up, looks at it and smiles knowingly.


End file.
